Page 83 of Big & Bossy

Did he send the email?

“You must’ve misheard me.”

“Harry—”

“Listen to me, Mandy,” he started, taking a step toward me. “I understand your heart will always have a soft spot for him, I do. But he’s not who you’re supposed to be with. Not who you’re fated for. I think you know that, and I think you always have.”

I took a step back, my blouse catching on the drawer of one of the cabinets, the fabric tearing at my shoulder.

“I’d treat you so much better than he would,” Harry said. Bile climbed up my throat as he closed in, sunken eyes wild as they stared me down. “You know I would. I’d take you out to fancy restaurants and the press wouldn’t be on our heels. I’d buy you anything you wanted. I’d fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked—raw, hard, dirty.”

“I don’t want that at all,” I whispered, my back hitting the rear wall of my office, the photos hung there shaking from the small impact. My heart was speeding up, too much hitting me all at once. It was him. It was Harry. It was him.

“You do. You just don’t realize it yet. And that’s… that’s okay, Miranda.” He closed the distance, caging me in with his hands. Too easily, he slotted a knee between my thighs, locking me in place. “I always knew it would take you some time. Years, even. But I think you might just need a little push.”

Cracked, dry lips met mine before I could protest, little bits of stubble scraping against my skin. His tongue darted out, swiping against my pressed-together lips, trying to part them. I could smell his morning breath. My flesh crawled at the invasion of privacy, the disgusting desperation coating him.

I placed both hands on the center of his chest and pushed hard, disconnecting us. “Get off me,” I croaked. My heart hammered in my chest, my lungs hurting, my mind panicking. It was him. It was Harry. It was him.

“Or what?”

My palm collided with his cheek before I even knew what was happening. The slap left a stinging red mark, and as his eyes flashed with anger, I knew I’d fucked up. Royally.

His mouth slammed into mine with enough force to make me shriek, and he took advantage, forcing my lips to part further, snaking his tongue inside. One filthy hand cupped the side of my waist and dug in its fingers, coating me in the feeling of dirt and grime.

I pushed, but he didn’t move. I hit, but he didn’t move. His knee pressed in between my thighs, rubbing at the top of them, and I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. He forced his tongue into my mouth again, searched out my own, and dear God I didn’t want this.

I didn’t want this.

I didn’t want this.

His other hand fumbled with the buckle on his belt, that all-too-familiar rattling noise making the bile in my gut rise. I pushed, pushed harder, retreating my tongue and body as far as I could. “Stop, please, stop.” I barely managed the words around his mouth, barely kept myself from crying?—

I heard the footsteps in the main hall before I’d even noticed the door had opened. Harry took a step back, too forcefully, too quickly — and I knew he heard it too from the little smile covering his dampened lips. He turned to look, his body blocking my view, but nothing could block out him.

Jackson’s eyes met mine over the top of Harry’s head, every bit of anger and frustration hidden as he took in the sight before him. It only flooded in as he turned his sights on Harry.

Chapter 39

Jackson

Isaw red.

The temptation to swing my fist directly into his face and beat him until he was black and blue and red again was overwhelming, but I’d brought the police with me, brought security. I was stronger than that. I could hold back for Mandy’s sake, keep her from seeing what she’d already seen once before.

Cops filtered in on either side of me, grabbing Harry before he could protest. I watched out of the corner of my eye as they cuffed him, as he pleaded with his face smashed against the filing cabinets, but my gaze was trained on Mandy. She looked at me in horror, her fingers touching her red, puffy lips. She was shaking.

I moved toward her.

After I’d picked Harry out of the video footage, we’d gotten confirmation that he had sent not one, but hundreds of emails to me. Each one the same, each one from his own log in at the library. After comparing timestamps and videos with every bit of information we were able to obtain, we handed it over to the police. I’d had security on standby for Mandy, far enough away that she wouldn’t notice, but close enough to react in case he came into the office. It had made me sick to know that he could show up at any point, but I needed to do it right. I couldn’t fuck it up, not this time.

I only wish I’d gotten there sooner.

“How did you know?” She whimpered, her eyes wide as she watched them read Harry his rights.

“I’ve been working nonstop,” I said. I used every bit of energy I had to keep my voice calm as I looked her over — every part of me wanted to kill him, leave him dead somewhere in the woods, run away, and never be caught. The temptation was nearly overwhelming considering the look of shock on her face and what I’d walked into, but I couldn’t do that. I just needed to keep it together for her. A part of me knew her panicked cries of stop would haunt me, though. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head at me. Thank fuck.

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